


Not With A Thousand Swords

by kateandbarrel



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s10e12 Line in the Sand, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateandbarrel/pseuds/kateandbarrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wakes up on Cam's couch.. then stuff happens.</p><p>Sequel to Not With A Thousand Bloodhounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With A Thousand Swords

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Not With A Thousand Bloodhounds, and it would make more sense to read that first. The first part is a response to a prompt, and this part really has nothing to do with the prompt, but it needed writing. ;)
> 
> Buttercup: "You can't hurt me. Westley and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords."

Sam didn’t know how she managed to fall asleep on Cam’s couch. Full of homemade chicken dumpling soup - another of Cam’s grandma’s recipes - and back to reclining on his soft, comfortable couch, the dim light of the tv flickering in an almost soothing way... actually, scratch that. Sam could very much see how she could fall asleep here. 

Fortunately, Cam hadn’t tried to move her while she slept. Probably worried about aggravating her still-healing stomach wound. But it would have been awkward if he tried putting her in a bed, and she could make a quiet exit from his house here. Sam sat up and stretched gingerly, her stomach tight and aching, but a far sight better than when she lay dying. Her phone was blinking angrily on the coffee table, its battery almost dead, but she could see that it was quite late, past two in the morning. She assumed Cam had gone to his bed, and slowly got up, intending to search out a pad of paper to leave a note. She didn’t get very far before a loud snore pierced the air, nearly giving her a heart attack. 

Sam wheeled around. It was just Cam, of course. Who else would be snoring in his house? But why hadn’t he gone to bed? He was splayed out on an armchair, legs akimbo, one arm laying on his stomach and the other hanging off the side of the chair. He had changed into sweatpants at some point, but did not have a blanket or pillow. Sam didn’t think that he was entirely comfortable that way, but being military, she knew they’d both endured much harsher sleeping conditions. You had to learn to adapt to what you had. 

Still, she thought of him sitting in that chair while she slept on his couch. Was he watching over her? The thought caused warmth to flare in her chest. Then she felt around her mouth, hoping she hadn’t drooled or anything in her sleep. It didn’t appear so, but she felt foolish regardless. She watched him sleep for a bit. He didn’t move much, but his eyelids were twitching. She moved closer and put a hand on his arm, intending to quietly wish him sweet dreams before leaving, when his other hand shot out and grabbed her arm. He woke a second later, blinking rapidly, looking confused for a moment before focusing on her face.

“Sam,” he said thickly, then let her arm go. “Sorry. Habit.”

She grinned. “My fault. I should know better. I’d probably do the same to you.”

His eyebrow rose. Sam wondered if he was envisioning a situation in which he’d be touching her in the night, because she suddenly was. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, it’s really late, I’m going to go home. Thanks for... your couch.”

“Stay,” Cam said softly. Sam wasn’t sure she heard him right. But she must have, because a second later he was on his feet, reaching out to her, his fingertips grazing her arm down to her hand.

“Cam,” she started, without knowing how to finish. Was it the darkness? Their sleepy, slightly emotionally vulnerable states? Why was he being so bold?

He stepped closer to her. She tried to move back, but the couch was behind her. She shouted at herself in her head. _Regulations, damnit!_

“I’m not your boss,” Cam said, as if reading her mind.

“No,” she agreed, resolve melting. Sam was getting older, her experiences stretching out behind her like a well-worn road, and she found she cared less about the military’s rules now than she would have ten years ago.

“You’re not my boss either.”

Sam grinned at that. “If you say so.”

Suddenly his hands were on her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks, and his eyes were staring into hers. Sam brought her hands up to his sides, ostensibly to steady herself, but she found her hand against warm flesh where his shirt had ridden up, and another kind of warmth blossomed inside her. 

“Sam,” he said almost questioningly. Asking for permission.

“Just kiss me already,” she said.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else, instead bringing his lips down on hers in a hard and insistent kiss. One of his hands slipped down to her back, pulling her close against him, and she could feel that he already had an erection. Sam opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, dragging a groan from Cam as he pressed against her. 

Sam pulled back after a moment to catch her breath. Cam was similarly breathing hard. He smoothed back some errant strands of hair that had fallen against her forehead. Then he started _laughing_ , of all things.

“What?” Sam asked. She thought maybe she should be offended, but his laugh sounded too good-natured.

“I just - never in my wildest dreams...” He looked thoughtful for a second. “Okay well yes, in a _few_ of my wildest dreams...”

“Cam!”

“Hey, I can’t help what my subconscious does while I sleep, Samantha.”

He leaned in for another kiss, and she happily obliged. Eventually, they found their way up to Cam’s bedroom, stumbling up the stairs in the dark, but they made it in one piece. Both of their actions became a little more frenzied, hands moving everywhere, lips never parting except to extricate some piece of clothing. Sam grunted slightly with the action of raising her arms to take off her shirt, and Cam paused to ask if she was okay, hand hovering near the wound on her stomach, but not quite touching it. She just pulled him down into a kiss, hand on his neck, and ignoring the vague pain, which was little more than a nuisance at this point.

Eventually they had both shed their clothes, naked bodies pressed together, and Sam felt more alive than she had in a while. She hadn’t really thought of Cam this way - not on purpose, that is, though the odd fantasy had popped up unbidden in her mind. But she rarely had time to think about anything, really, since most of her waking hours were spent working on something important. She did know she enjoyed his company, and laughed at his jokes, and she trusted him with her life. He’d seen her at her lowest point - and he didn’t seem to care. If anything, it seemed to have opened some kind of door between them. He had seen a part of her that nobody else had, and she didn’t even have to explain any of it to him. He understood. Cam always understood her.

Emotion flooded her senses, and she pulled him to the bed. He was whispering things into her ear, phrases like _I want you_ and _You’re beautiful_ but Sam found herself only half paying attention, distracted as she was by Cam’s body over hers, settling between her legs, grinding against her. 

“Cam,” she said breathily, the only thing she could manage to say, and that was enough. He sank into her, slowly, causing both of them to moan at the sensation. 

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down to kiss along her jawline.

“Stop _asking_ that,” she said. She ran her hand through his hair, trying to find something to grab onto, but it was too short. She _hmphed_ in annoyance and settled for gripping the back of his neck. 

“Sorry,” he said in a tone of voice which indicated he was not at all sorry, whether it be for his overprotectiveness or his lack of hair, and resumed kissing his way down her neck.

He was not moving elsewhere, however, and Sam was growing frustrated. She moved her hips, grinding against him, and Cam dropped his head and groaned at the sensation. Sam knew it had been quite a while since she’d been with anyone. She wondered absently how long it had been for him. He liked to flirt with the women they encountered off world, but back on Earth he spent nearly as much time on the base as she did.

She forgot this train of thought however as soon as Cam started moving, albeit excruciatingly slowly. Sam wanted more, thrusting against him, encouraging him to go faster. But he seemed to be enjoying her responses, and refused to comply. Cam brought his mouth down to her breasts, flicking his tongue against one nipple then the other, and back again. Sam was making a host of noises that she hadn’t heard come from herself in quite a while, and dug her nails into Cam’s back. 

“Sam, you’re amazing,” Cam said, awe in his voice.

She pulled him back up to her, kissing him with as much fervor as she could, trying to communicate what she felt about him. “Please,” she said, her voice low, almost a growl.

Cam obliged, moving faster, and words quickly devolved into noises for both of them, a variety of gasps and moans intermingling with each other. It didn’t take long for Sam to come - it had been so long, and he felt so good, and she never wanted this to end - groaning Cam’s name as she did so. Cam wasn’t far behind, and he buried his face in her neck as he came, mumbling something against her skin, but Sam couldn’t hear it, and in her post-coital mind she wasn’t too concerned with it.

Cam slumped against her for a moment, breathing hard. Sam closed her eyes and breathed him in, Old Spice deodorant, a faint smell of grease from his motorcycle, and something uniquely Cam which was hard to describe. She ran one of her hands down his back, and he abruptly pulled off her and rolled to the side.

“Shit, Sam, I forgot,” he said, indicating her stomach. “Did I hurt you?”

“I thought I told you to stop asking?” She said, but couldn’t let him wear that concerned look any longer. “I’m _fine_. It feels more like a pulled muscle than anything at this point. And right now, it really doesn’t hurt at all.”

Cam relaxed, and laid down next to her, laying his arm across her. Below her wound, she noted. “Alright.”

“In fact, you could probably punch me there and it wouldn’t hurt. I feel that good.” She grinned, and Cam couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Let’s not test that theory.”

Sam rolled to her side, wanting to look Cam in the eyes. She thought she ought to feel nervous about this drastic shift in their relationship, and expected to any second. But the nervousness never came. Nothing about this felt off in any way. Some part of her had wanted this, wanted Cam, and now that she had him, she felt extraordinarily happy.

And she didn’t really care about what anyone else thought - Daniel might be confused at first but would support them, Teal’c would probably say he’d known it was inevitable because he was just that frustratingly prescient about some things, and Vala would want the dirty details over coffee. As for the general, well - what could Landry do? Break up SG-1? It was a chore and a half each time SG-1 had ever needed a new team member. At the most, she suspected he would simply move either herself or Cam to one of the other SG teams. If that happened, they’d survive it. But with the Ori threat looming, Sam was sure that Landry just wouldn’t want to deal with it. They were both too important to the mission. She could almost hear his voice in her head. _I don’t want to know the details, colonel_ , he’d say, _But just don’t let it get in the way_. Sam grinned at her mind’s version of the general.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Cam asked, his eyelids already half drooping over his eyes.

“I was just thinking of the general. He told me I’m not to come back to work for a week,” Sam said mischievously. 

Cam grinned at her implication. “Those are orders I can get behind.” He kissed her temple and closed his eyes, settling in to sleep.

She wanted to ask what it was he had said to her, in the height of their lovemaking, but she couldn’t quite work up the courage. Perhaps it wasn’t really anything important, just the babbling of someone in the throes of passion. Maybe he didn’t even remember what he said, or that he said anything at all. 

Sam took a deep breath and watched Cam’s face smooth over as he fell deep into sleep, his arm still draped around her. Whatever it was, if it was important, she was sure he’d say it again. And she thought she might have something similar to say back.


End file.
